by Claire Adams
“She is not my wife, she is my ex-wife. The divorce proceedings have been underway for a while now and we are married in name only.” I slammed my fist on the desk, feeling the fury begin to swell inside of me.
“Oh wow, that is a perfectly reasonable explanation for what she was doing in your office, acting exactly like a non-ex-wife would act.”
“She was trying to provoke a reaction. Out of you, funnily enough. And it seems to have worked.” I shook my head. “Listen, Aria, I never lied to you. Gina and I are working through certain things that pertain way more to my mother than either one of us. That is the only reason she is anywhere near me. I have no feelings for her and I am not sure I ever did, really. For all intents and purposes, she stopped being my wife a long time ago. That doesn’t stop her from showing her malicious ways; that is just in the woman’s nature. She somehow figured out that I was seeing somebody in the office and she walked in here this morning with the intention of scaring whoever it was away. You. And by reacting like this, you are letting her fucking win.”
“Oh really? Because I care so much about the games you play with your wife and whether or not you’re winning? Are you really trying to convince me that none of this is what it looks like? If so, just save us both the time and yourself the energy, boss man.”
“It’s not a game and she’s not my wife. I would never, ever want to hurt you.” I looked deep into her eyes, hoping she would sense that somewhere in my words was an ounce of honesty. With a much gentler voice, I added, “I really care about you. More than you realize, obviously.”
I regretted saying those words as soon as they left my mouth. Not because they weren’t true necessarily, but because she didn’t need to know that. Until this very moment, it was something I hadn’t even accepted myself, but now I knew it was true. Because the fact was, watching her look upset with puffy eyes and a little blush over her perfect little nose was making me feel way more uncomfortable than it should have.
Upon hearing those words, her face seemed to gain some color. Perhaps she hadn’t even entertained the idea that I actually cared about her…. I hadn’t entertained it myself, until now, so I shouldn’t be surprised.
The room was silent for a long time, as Aria seemed to be weighing my words in her mind.
“If you really mean that,” she eventually whispered. “I have a request; I would like to rearrange the terms of the contract.”
“What do you mean?” What could she possibly want to change? Sex was not a part of the contract as it is…
“You don’t get to control who I talk to. Given that you somehow happen to have a wife up your sleeve, I should at least have sovereignty over who I communicate with.”
“Sure,” I said very carefully. “As long as it’s not your ex.”
“That’s amusing, coming from a married man who has been seducing me. If you remember correctly, as a part of the contract, you’re not allowed to have sex with any other woman. Yet your wife–”
“We’re not having sex!” I exclaimed. Hadn’t she been listening to a word I was saying? “I told you, Gina and I haven’t really been married in a while. Whatever shenanigans she was pulling here before were an act. Part of some evil master plan she has to win me back. And by me, I mean my money.”
“So you’re telling me you’re married to that woman and you don’t even touch her? You don’t have any regards for my intelligence, do you?” She was starting to sound hurt again.
“On the contrary, Aria, you are one of the most intelligent women I have ever met. And I can say this with confidence because I have seen your work. Both as your boss and as someone who worked through your economics coursework with you, I know what your mind is capable of. I would never underestimate that.”
“Then stop lying to me! You want to have a wife and keep the contract? Fine! Let me have my freedom back. That’s not too much to ask, is it?”
“I don’t trust that guy around you,” I said broodily. “He has hurt you before and he will hurt you again.”
“And what do you think you are doing?” she snapped loudly. She had clearly been holding it back so far and now the anger was flashing red hot on her face.
“I am not hurting you...at least, I had no intention of fucking doing so.” I tried to catch her eye but she was looking away from me.
“Well, it’s a little too late for that,” she said in a barely audible whisper, making the knot in my chest feel heavy.
“I am sorry. And I’m sorry to say that I am not going to be okay with you talking to that moron. It’s for your own good.”
“I know how to take care of myself. Been doing it for 20 years without you, thanks. And if you’re going to be sleeping with other women – and after seeing your wife, I don’t believe for a second that you’re not, no matter what you say – then I should have the right to at least decide who I keep company with.”
“For the last time, I am not fucking Gina. Or anybody else for that matter.”
“For the last time, I don’t believe you. And I have work to do,” she said, then without any warning, stormed out of my office, leaving me perplexed.
Chapter Three
Aria
These days, being inside an active classroom was the only respite my mind got. Tired of Zayden, the contract, and all the drama surrounding it, I had made a newfound resolution to concentrate on one thing: school. If I was constantly thinking about numbers and graphs and economics theories, there would be very little time to worry about much else. I had begun staying in the library late every night and avoiding catching Zayden’s eyes while at work.
As my mind began drifting off in my Public Finance class, I tried to bring myself back. Focus on school. That was my new motto. My Econ and Finance teacher, Mr. Weber, and I were on excellent terms; so far I had aced all his classes with top marks, so he often counted on me to have the right answer. It was an extremely comforting intellectual environment away from the royal mess that the rest of my life had become.
Class had just started, and after Mr. Weber finished taking the roll call, he made an announcement.
“Class, today I have a little bit of a surprise for you.” He flashed his white teeth, as though very pleased with himself. It made his old, wrinkly features light up a little bit. He didn’t laugh very often. “A surprise guest!”
Oh, that was interesting. Last year we had had a guest in his Intermediate Macroeconomics class and it had been incredible. He had brought in the Vice President of Finance of Dylan Motors – a multibillion-dollar corporation – and he had told us his amazing rags-to-riches story and taken the class by storm. Who could it be this time? There was a murmur of excitement through the whole class, and I couldn’t help but be overcome by enthusiasm myself.
“Our guest has taken time off his incredibly busy schedule in order to speak in front of you today. Most of you probably know him by name – if not, you should if you want to get anywhere in the world of finance. This school and many professors far more capable and venerated than myself have been trying to get him to come and speak for years, but he has only now found the time. So we should consider ourselves extremely grateful.”
You could slice the anticipation in the room with a knife. Everyone was suddenly sitting upright with perfect posture, and the guy in front of me, who usually napped through class, was ready with a notebook and a pen. It was rare for the whole class to be so alert and present.
“Who is it?” a couple of students asked, unable to conceal their excitement.
“He is a young man – much younger than myself, to my shame – who has taken a family empire and built it into an incredible corporation. Students, please let me welcome, Mr. Zayden Sinclair, owner and Chief Executive Officer of South National Bank!”
Wait, what? I must have heard that wrong…it couldn’t possibly be? No, no, no. This was just not happening. He wasn’t going to walk into my classroom right now, it had to be some kind of a sick joke. Maybe there was someone else with that name? Hah, I was be
ing stupid. One Zayden Sinclair who was the CEO of South National was more than the world could or needed to take. I pinched myself, hoping to wake up from a bizarre dream, and jumped with pain.
Unable to take my eyes off the front of the classroom, I waited in a panic. Maybe he would cancel? Could I stealthily escape the classroom before anyone noticed? I could pretend to faint, nobody was going to see any reason for me to fake passing out, since nobody knew about Zayden and I. And I was in Mr. Weber’s full confidence; he would never suspect me of ditching a class for no reason. Yes, I could totally pull that off!
But just as I was gathering the courage to fall down flat on to the floor, Zayden walked in, looking like he just zoomed out of a magazine, and staring right ahead at me. The class broke into loud applause, as though they had just seen the president of the United States. He caught my eye with a sly twitch of his mouth, his face ridden with amusement, and I looked away. I would have a full-fledged panic attack at any moment.
“Welcome, Mr. Sinclair,” Mr. Weber said cheerfully. “Thank you so much for coming here to speak with our students today. The class collectively could not be more excited!”
“Is that so?” Zayden asked Mr. Weber with a slight laugh. “Collectively? Each and every one of them? Are you sure?” He was facing Mr. Weber, but looking at me from the corner of his eyes.
If there were ever a time to want to disappear into the ground beneath me, it was right in that moment.
“Of course!” Mr. Weber exclaimed in pure delight. Gosh, did he have to sound so ridiculously excited? “In fact, I have never seen my whole class so alert this early in the morning before. Everyone is awake, for starters.”
Zayden chuckled, sending goosebumps down my spine. If only he didn’t look so damn good, my life would be so much easier.
“That is very flattering. It is very nice to see you all,” he said, now directly looking at me. “I have some questions for you all, before I start yapping endlessly. Any volunteers?”
The whole class raised their hands as high up in the air as they went. Except me, which was a mistake, because it caught Mr. Weber’s attention.
“Aria, why don’t I see your hand up in the air?” he asked, looking almost hurt, as though I had personally offended him.
Shit. Great, Aria. What a wonderful way not to draw attention to yourself. Should have just blended with the crowd!
“Uh, not sure I am quite up for inquisition just now,” I said, looking at neither Mr. Weber nor Zayden, and instead focusing hard on the concrete below me. I didn’t even notice how hard I was clutching onto my dress until my palms started to hurt.
“What do you mean you’re not up for inquisition?” Mr. Weber asked completely perplexed. He was used to a very different version of me altogether. I wished there was a way to communicate to him that I would rather swallow a vial of rat poison than be in that room without offending him. “Are you feeling alright?”
There was my cue. No, say no, Aria. It would then be easily over with and I could probably escape and not have to deal with this whole ordeal. But I froze, unable to say a single word. I made a feeble attempt at shaking my head but I doubt it looked like anything other than an involuntary shudder.
“You seem pretty alright, Miss… Aria, was it?” I heard Zayden’s voice.
“Yes, Aria Roberts. She is one of our best and brightest,” Mr. Weber said proudly. “In fact, I am not sure you know – you have thousands of employees after all – but she is already advancing her career in banking by working as a teller at South National.”
“Ah,” Zayden said, flashing me a look of pure amusement. “That’s where I know that face from! It all makes sense now. I am glad to hear young talent like yourself works for me, Ms. Roberts.”
There was a definitely intonation in his voice – especially a stress in the words talent and works, like he wasn’t quite talking about my skills in banking.
“Since you were the least eager to answer my questions, I suspect you will be the most honest in your responses.” He looked at Mr. Weber. “Should I proceed?”
“Of course! Ask her anything!” he exclaimed.
“These questions are basically a screening of how much your students have learned before I go on to speak about my own experiences. I want to tailor them to what is relevant to your students. As such, complete honesty about the material covered is essential.”
“What do you want to know?” I asked, still looking at Mr. Weber.
He shook his head. “No, no, not here. It would be best if I could speak with you briefly in private, for maybe 15 minutes, so you feel more comfortable answering with honesty. My questions will pertain to this class too, and perhaps there are things you wouldn’t want your professor and fellow classmates to know.”
“I am perfectly comfortable right here, thanks,” I snapped, unable to handle it anymore. Hopefully nobody caught the bitterness in my voice, and even if they did, there was no way they could guess what it was about. “You can ask me anything,” I added more evenly. “And you will get an honest answer. There is nothing I have to say about Mr. Weber or this class that he wouldn’t like to hear.”
“Be that as it may,” he pushed. “Participation bias is a serious psychological effect, and to get the best out of all of our times here, we must have an audience in private. Is that okay, Mr. Weber?”
Now he was trying to be professional.
“Of course it is!” Weber exclaimed. “Aria, why don’t you show Mr. Sinclair the conference room and answer any questions he may have. Meanwhile, I will prep the rest of the class on questions we may have for him in turn and make a list. You can add yours to it after you return.”
“Uh.” I was trapped. There was no way to get out of this without raising suspicion or getting into Mr. Weber’s bad books, which was something I simply could not afford. Zayden’s little game was not worth my grades and academic performance. It was in my best interest to suck it up and show him the “conference room.”
“Fine,” I said finally. “Let’s go then, Mr. Sinclair.” I added emphasis on those last words.
“After you, Ms. Roberts.” He looked thrilled. Why wouldn’t he? After successfully ignoring him at his own bank, he had found a way to get to me by showing up at the one place where he knew I had to keep my cool. It must have been easy for him, calling up the Econ department head and asking to make a guest lecture. He knew what classes I was taking from when I was discussing schoolwork with him, so he must have just easily dropped the name of the most relevant class I was in and the department head must had exploded in delight. I was starting to feel lightheaded just from thinking about it.
As soon as we were out of earshot, Zayden started chuckling. “How was that?” he whispered.
I said absolutely nothing until we reached the nearest empty conference room. When we walked in, I closed the blinds and locked the door so nobody could hear us.
“Really?” he said with a smirk when I turned to look at him. “Here? Now? I’m flattered, sweetheart, but I suppose they are waiting for us back in your classroom.”
My face went red from a combination of anger and embarrassment. I wanted to punch him, or hurt him in some way for pulling this crap. But for some reason, words just choked up in my mouth as I watched his face light up. Why did Zayden Sinclair have this effect on me? I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, resigned to not let myself be charmed by his ways once again.
After gathering a considerable amount of courage, I said, “What do you think you’re trying to pull here? Really, Zayden? Don’t you think you have crossed a line by showing up in my class?”
The hint of amusement was still in his eyes when he said, “Don’t you think it’s a little egotistical of you to assume I came here for you?”
Oh, shit. If it was possible at all, my face turned even redder than before, and I wanted to scream or cry or do something completely ridiculous to make all of this go away.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply–”
&n
bsp; “Aria, just stop. Of course I am here for you. I’ve been trying to call you every single day! And I try to catch you at the bank, but you rush to the other direction at the very sight of me as though I am some kind of a monster. You left me no choice, did you?”
“Yes, I did,” I said, the anger replacing the momentary humiliation I had felt a few seconds ago. “I left you the choice to leave me alone. Why is this so hard to comprehend?”
“First of all, that’s not really a choice. It’s not like I can just control wanting to see you.” He looked at me like I was a 3-year-old who failed to understand basic concepts of human interactions. “And second, it’s not what our contract is about, is it? The whole idea was that you spend as much time with me as I require, no questions asked.”
“You were also not supposed to have an attractive wife up your sleeve, if we’re going to nitpick about the stupid contract. And since when is stalking me into school a part of the deal? I don’t remember singing up for that.”
“Well, you didn’t complete your end of the deal that you signed up for so I just improvised,” he said as though it were an obvious answer and I was being ridiculous for even questioning what he was doing. As though it were normal and accepted of him to show up here like this, and I was a moron for thinking he wouldn’t.
“Fine,” I said, completely frustrated at this point. The only way this was going to be over was if I just went along with it and let him feel like he had won. “Fine. You’re here, great. What do you want from me?”
He walked forward with a grin on his face and his mouth came very close to mine. For a few insane moments, I forgot where we were and what we were doing. All I could see were his perfect lips so close to mine, and if I only so much as tilted my head half an inch, we would be kissing. The thought of that sent tingles down my spine and I was close to giving in when he said in a very low voice, “You know very well what I want, Aria. It’s what you want too. You need to stop denying it.”
